<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Photographs by Elvendara</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28141842">Photographs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvendara/pseuds/Elvendara'>Elvendara</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Yooran Week 2018 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mystic Messenger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Mystic Messenger - Freeform, YOORAN FOREVER!!, Yooran, in a good way, love me these boys, mysme, so much Yooran you're going to puke!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:49:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,246</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28141842</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvendara/pseuds/Elvendara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Yoosung Kim/Saeran Choi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Yooran Week 2018 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061609</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Photographs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was easy. Losing himself in his art. It was almost as if his hand created the lines by themselves. There were times when he was not even aware of what he was creating until he stepped away and took it all in.</p><p>He’d begun drawing as a kid, after Saeyoung had given him a blank book. It had been the only way he could escape from his mother. It was still the best way he could calm himself, or work through a particularly difficult problem.</p><p>The long even strokes were satisfying. His sketches were fast and light, the pencil easily covered with his colors. He’d tried his hand at painting, but the medium was too thick for him, he preferred being able to draw minute details. He added some pink to the jewel toned amethyst he was currently working on. There was a smile that played around his mouth as the open and innocent expression took shape. He thickened the dark lashes and moved to the mouth. The smile was wide and joyful.</p><p>He wondered what it would feel like to have that kind of inner light. His sketch books were full of this man. A man he’d never met, but only came to him in his dreams. He could remember the very first time he’d appeared. Saeran had been six, at least he thought he’d been six, it was difficult to track since they never celebrated their birthday. Mother had beaten him savagely that night. She had not allowed Saeyoung near him. She’d called him pathetic, a poor excuse of a son, a burden, then shackled his ankle and slammed the door closed to his tiny room. He’d huddled in the corner, his thin and threadbare blanket around him. Eventually he’d fallen asleep, his head against the wall.</p><p>A pair of amethyst eyes formed in his dream. It was almost as if he was drawing him. A nose followed, a supple mouth with a warm smile, and spikey, messy, blonde hair. His eyes crinkled as he grinned. Somehow, his presence had soothed him enough to allow him to have a descent nights sleep. When he’d woken, he’d scuttled to his hiding place and pulled out his precious treasure. He was careful not to break the point of his only pencil, as they did not have a sharpener, and he sketched a rudimentary semblance of the face he’d seen.</p><p>He sat back and stretched, his muscles aching from bending over the table. His bones cracked and the tension in his body eased somewhat. He stared into those eyes, as if they held the galaxy in them.</p><p>“Who are you?” he whispered, not for the first time. He’d told Saeyoung about him, shown him his drawings, but Saeyoung didn’t recognize him either. He rubbed at his eyes and knew he should make his way into bed. Perhaps he could just close his eyes for a few minutes, rest them, before getting up. He crossed his arms on the desk and lay his head on them. It was mere seconds before he was sound asleep.</p><p>Something brushed against his cheek, rustling the fringe of his red hair. There was a sensation of a presence looming over him, yet, it was not unpleasant. He fell further into sleep, reaching REM and plunging him into an empty landscape. The darkness did not bother him. He had no eyes, yet he could see. He floated in the void, his reach vast into nothingness. He could move his conscience wherever he desired. There was another presence with him, that same comforting presence that he had grown up with. It was warm, inviting, but insistent. This was something new. Where before, that presence existed in perfect harmony with him, now, it pushed at him, its desire more urgent.</p><p>“Who are you.” He thought.</p><p>“Yoosung.” Came the unexpected answer. The presence swelled around him, projecting more weight than it ever had. An almost physical manifestation.</p><p>“Finish it. You are almost there. I can almost touch you.” The last sentence was said right into his ear in the real world and he jerked awake, the feel of lips still fresh on his skin. His hand clamped on his ear as he tried to process what had just happened. He looked at his drawing again, and he could swear the expression was different. The eyebrows were lower, the eyes were less open, the mouth less joyful.</p><p>He jolted again as a knock was made on his door.</p><p>“Fuck!” he was going to have a heart attack at this rate. The knock came again. Saeran shook himself and padded towards the door, opening it wide. Saeyoung stood on the other side, his pajamas on and a ratty old red robe.</p><p>“Hey, couldn’t sleep either? I saw your light still on under the door.”</p><p>“Uh, yeah…”</p><p>“Wanna’ play something? Or, watch a movie?” he asked eagerly.</p><p>Saeran looked back at his sketch pad and felt it pulling at him.</p><p>“Nnno…I, I want to finish something.”</p><p>“Oh, ok, I’ll let you get back to it then.” Saeyoung said, his tone disappointed. Saeran had already put him out of his mind however and returned to the desk. He flipped the page and began to sketch rapidly, not like he usually worked. It was as if something had taken over and the urgency was oppressive.</p><p>He flipped another page, and another, and another, until he was satisfied with what he had. He then switched to coloring, his eager movements should have made the work sloppy, but he had never colored anything so perfectly before. The eyes were so real Saeran felt as if he was being watched. The hair looked as if he could run his fingers through it, the lips looked as if…he let that thought drop. When he was done, he dropped the marker in his hand and his wrist spasmed. He shook it, standing up and feeling all the aches and pains of having spent hours hunched over. Hours? He checked the clock on his nightstand, 5am. He’d spent almost five hours on those sketches. He shook his head as he kneaded his wrist. His entire body ached. He fell on the bed, not bothering to even crawl under the covers. Soon enough, he was floating again in that nether world of his dreams. This time however, he was alone.</p><p>He sent his consciousness as far as he could reach, but there was nothing. Whatever had been here with him, was gone. He felt afraid for the first time since that long ago beginning. He was alone, and he was afraid. He whimpered, his body shaking in his sleep.</p><p>“Shh, you will never be alone.” The voice was soft, wafting in from the waking world. Saeran struggled to get to it, his mind crashing around him.</p><p>His eyes sprang open and he sprang upright, knocking into something as he did so.</p><p>“Ow!” Saeran fell off the bed at the sudden sound, blinking incomprehensively. He couldn’t get to his feet and he simple scooted backwards, away from the bed. His back hit the dresser, stopping his momentum. On the bed, on hands and knees, completely naked, was the man he’d sketched his entire life. He smiled sweetly, then swung his legs off, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand on his lap. They stared at each other in silence.</p><p>The man, Yoosung wasn’t it, raised his hand to his nose.</p><p>“I have forgotten the consequences of having a mortal body.” he giggled. “It is not too high a price to pay.”</p><p>“You…how…but…” Saeran stuttered.</p><p>Yoosung looked over his body.</p><p>“You have done great work. This is certainly much better than my last body. I would not recommend an exoskeleton, it is so difficult to scratch a persistent itch.” He wrinkled his nose at the memory.</p><p>“Me?” Saeran latched onto the first part of what the man had said, and chose to ignore the rest, for now.</p><p>“Of course you.” He scooted off the bed and knelt before Saeran. He ran his finger across Saeran’s forehead and tucked some loose strands of hair behind his ear.</p><p>“Ah, this physical sensation is fascinating.” he rubbed the pads of his fingers against his thumb before he focused on Saeran once more. His vibrant violet eyes swirling with what appeared to be tiny stars.</p><p>“Who? How?” it was all Saeran could articulate.</p><p>“Yoosung, my name is Yoosung. I am one of the Star Lords. We encompass the entire universe.”</p><p>“The stars!” Saeran breathed.</p><p>“Yes! We have met there many times.”</p><p>“Nn…no…I…those were dreams.” Saeran insisted.</p><p>“Yet here we are, here I am, a dream come true.” He giggled once more. He was so close, and the way he looked at Saeran, made him feel things.</p><p>He suddenly stood and looked around the room, touching everything he came close to. He picked up the sketch book and turned back to Saeran.</p><p>“You really are magnificent.” He intoned. Saeran stood, his legs still a little wobbly.</p><p>“How did you…” Saeran swallowed and tried again. “How did you get here?”</p><p>“It was not easy.” He set the book down and focused those swirling eyes on him. “It takes a special being to produce a viable vessel. In fact, in your short history, I believe you have been the only one capable on this world.”</p><p>“On…this world?”</p><p>“Yes, the universe is full of civilizations, they burn for a brief time, then…” he turned away, glistening tears in his eyes.</p><p>“How many times have you visited other worlds?” Saeran asked, stepping closer to the man, if that was what he was.</p><p>“Five, including now.” He kept his gaze to the ground. Saeran lifted his chin and the man blinked back his tears.</p><p>“How old are you?” he asked in a hushed tone.</p><p>Yoosung shrugged, “I have always been here, I will always be here.” He wrapped his arms around Saeran and lay his head on his chest.</p><p>“You have created a beautiful vessel. Is this…what you prefer?”</p><p>“What?” Saeran was unsure what he was asking. “Uh, I should, you…some clothes…” he pushed away from the man and dug into his dresser, pulling out a pair of pajama bottoms. “Here, put these on.”</p><p>Yoosung took the proffered clothing and furrowed his eyes, they lit up and he grinned, looking up at Saeran.</p><p>“Puppies!” he laughed cheerfully.</p><p>“Yeah, my brother gave them to me, as a joke.”</p><p>“It is very soft.” He ran the fabric across his cheek gently before putting them on. “Is that better?” he asked.</p><p>“Yes, thank you.”</p><p>“Was I inappropriate?” he bit his lower lip, much like a chastised child. It was a difficult thing to comprehend after what he’d just told Saeran.</p><p>“No! No…I mean…well…”</p><p>“It takes some time for me to acclimate myself to the society I find myself in. Please feel free to correct me. I just…” he reached out to Saeran, then let his hand fall dejectedly at his side. Saeran’s chest swelled. Was this immortal being attached to him?</p><p>He stepped up to the man and he looked up, eyes still glistening, swirling, beautiful. He took a hold of his hand, lacing their fingers together. This should feel awkward, but it was strangely familiar.</p><p>“I know you…” Saeran whispered, awed by the wave of emotion washing over him.</p><p>“Of course you know me, we have spent years together. This is body you created, is the one in your imagination, how you saw me the first time we met. When you were but a child, a child in need of warmth and comfort. You called to me, to the stars, and I answered. And I have loved you ever since.”</p><p>“Love?” could it be? Could he be loved?</p><p>“With everything that I am!” he confirmed passionately.</p><p>“How did get here?” Saeran asked, not ready to follow the road Yoosung was taking him down.</p><p>“It was you. Your drawings.”</p><p>“But how? They are just paper and ink.”</p><p>“With what is in here.” He tapped Saeran’s temple.</p><p>“Is it magic?” he asked innocently. Yoosung laughed and shook his head.</p><p>“No, nothing like that. Nothing divine either. It is something that can be cultivated perhaps, but, none know it is even there. The spark is in every living sentient thing. You used your drawings to focus it, but, the rest was done in your imagination. Had you not completed the image in your head, I could not have filled your vision.</p><p>“When you say completed…”</p><p>Yoosung grinned shyly and blinked up at him.</p><p>“No…I never! That…was not me…” Saeran glanced down at Yoosung’s crotch, which appeared to be tenting the loosely fitted pajama bottoms. His eyes widened, and he looked away.</p><p>“But of course you did. Or like I said, I would not be standing here.” He pressed himself against Saeran and it was no longer possible to try and tell himself that this was still a dream. That there was not a Star Lord standing in front of him with a hard on against his thigh.</p><p>He met the man’s gaze, vertigo hitting him like a sucker punch. His presence was familiar, almost as familiar as his brother’s. But it was also completely different than his brother’s. His chest constricted, he was barely able to breath. His heart pounded so loudly, the increased blood flow muffled his ears. And he realized…this is what joy felt like.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>